Chivalry is Dead?
by Keepalive
Summary: People become dangerous when their illusions are shattered. What's a Black witch to do then but fix what is broken, whether they like it or not.


Narcissa Malfoy was exhausted and bitter. Tired of the monstrous and cruel nature of her husband, the many restrictions and level of scrutiny she existed under as Lucius' wife, and most especially the way that he had stolen her son from her.

In retrospect this side of Lucius had always been obvious, his cutthroat business dealings and obvious support for the Dark Lord evidence. In her willful blindness she had been ecstatic about the marriage contract that had been presented to her upon her graduation from Hogwarts a scant three years ago. She had been so excited to do her duty to keeping pure bloodlines alive as her father had always said was most important and utterly oblivious to the heartbreaking reality that was to befall her.

He had been so charming, so easygoing and affable in the days leading up to their wedding, it was so simple to fall under his spell. He paid her attention, was interested in her comings and goings, supported her projects and fueled her passions. She had felt that she was living a dream and for a time she was filled with joy.

It was well after they had been married, beyond the point that any protest could be made about their union that things started to change. The catalyst was when she became pregnant with their child. Lucius had been so happy, and she had felt fulfilled that they were starting a family of their own. When he started to have her constantly monitored by house elves and requiring her to tell him of her plans well in advance, she had written it off as the overprotective instincts of a prospective father, nervous about his wifes condition. As her pregnancy advanced, he had become more and more restrictive, culminating in her not being allowed to even leave the wing of his manor where her rooms were located.

It was in the days following the birth of her son, Draco, that the veil lifted from her eyes and she saw how much of a prisoner she had become, and what an unfeeling monster her husband really was.

After only two days of recovering from the birth, as she was reveling in the love she had for her little baby boy, Lucius had come and taken him from her, to see a healer he said. Why the healer couldn't come to see him in her presence wasn't exactly stated, but still recovering she acquiesced without protest.

He started with excuses, that the healers needed to see him overnight, for monitoring. That he was going to visit his family, in France, people she'd never gotten along with and he didn't want to burden her with the visit.

Once she'd fully recovered and had real time to consider the way he'd been acting, she confronted him about Draco, and she bore witness to the monster for the first time.

"Where is he!" Narcissa barged into his study, fuming and worried about her son.

"Draco is no longer a concern of yours dear." He spoke, so used to the compulsions he had laid on her during their courtship that made her obey his whim, not even looking up at her from whatever report he was reading.

"NO CONCERN OF MINE, HE'S MY SON!"

It was only now that he looked up at her, saw the heavy breathing and real anger at him in her stance and tone, and realized that the game was up, she'd broken the little spells he'd used to make her docile. A cruel smile appeared on his face and his eyes became chips of ice, no trace of their previous warmth.

"So, you finally realized, did you? Did you really think that I had any care for you or your constant nattering on about this charity or whatever foolish project you had chosen to undertake? You've so willingly given me my heir and I have no reason left to cater to your delusions." His voice tone was so cutting, almost gleefully shattering her whole concept of their marriage.

"Draco is a Malfoy; he needs no coddling or mothering from a whore as vapid as you are. No, you will never see him again except as public appearances require and even then, you will never speak."

"You will maintain your appearance, but I have no further use for you. You will be moved to the country house in Wales where I don't have to endure your insipid chatter. I don't much care what ridiculous pursuits you chase, or how you while away your time. There will be house elves to attend to your needs and bring you to me when I require your presence or your… charms." he said callously, following the last statement with a disgusting leer.

Narcissa, shocked and enraged as she was couldn't speak a word, the family magics that laid with the head of house robbing her of the ability to argue with him. In pure blood society it was enforced, legally and magically, that the father or husband was the head of the household and held significant power over the family. His treatment of her though was right up there with the worst horror stories she'd heard about pureblood marriages and the casual cruelties of men that saw wives and daughters and bargaining chips or pretty decorations, to be admired and shared around.

As he finished speaking, a house elf popped into the room, took a fistful of her dress and popped them both away. She reappeared in a well-appointed room, still reeling from the revelations of the past few minutes and collapsed on the bed sobbing.

* * *

The first days were the hardest, being torn from her son and having her husband so casually rip into her and decry her as having no value but for her reproductive system was devastating. She spent the time in a fugue state, between raging, terrified and depressed. When she finally managed to leave the bed upon which she collapsed, she saw in the mirror someone she didn't recognize. Disheveled clothing, reddened eyes, and tangled, matted hair, a far cry from the well put together appearance she favored.

It was habit that spurred her into action more than anything, she had refused to look anything but her best all her life, and that had not changed. After a scalding shower and a well-prepared meal, she felt some emotional balance return.

There was still anger, both at her husband for being as much of a bastard as he was, and at herself for falling for his act. Sadness, for the son she had so looked forward to raising, and what her life had become. And fear, for what Lucius had planned for her in the future.

She needed to plan, she was a Black, she wouldn't meekly roll over for some disgusting bastard for the rest of her life. While she was clearly imprisoned here, the wards configured to prevent her from leaving, that didn't leave her without options.

Firstly, avenues she could proceed down to fix her situation. The Aurors were obviously out, no part of what Lucius had done was illegal that she could irrefutably prove. The only grounds for divorce in her marriage contract required that the other party be imprisoned for life, she remembered that much and as she had become such a recluse during her pregnancy, her few close associates (friendships rarely lasted in Slytherin) had no doubt moved on already.

Her immediate family was no good either, after decades of dealing with the equally repugnant Cygnus Black, her mother had adopted a fatalistic outlook and would simply tell her that she was to obey her husband. Her sisters couldn't help, though for entirely different reasons. Andromeda, the eldest of the three of them, had already been kicked out of the family for eloping with her muggleborn lover. Lucius would tolerate no communication between them, and she knew he would screen her mail as it was. Bellatrix, her younger sister, was only entering her fourth year at Hogwarts and she wouldn't drop all her problems on the thirteen-year-old.

Contacting her father was out for obvious reasons, and her cousins were either too enamored with the cult of pureblood superiority or too Gryffindor to help her. The only person she could think of that would be even halfway willing to hear her out was her great uncle Arcturus, and then only because as Lord Black he had a duty to do so.

In short, her prospects were fairly bleak, and she resigned herself to playing to Lucius's whims until she could uncover something concrete that would give her the leverage she needed to escape this nightmare.

The next weeks rolled on slowly, Narcissa always wary of being summoned by Lucius. The first time was innocuous, family pictures to announce the Malfoy Heir to the world. She'd been ecstatic but was firmly warned by Lucius not to even look at Draco or she would regret it. It was obvious that she could not resist, he'd had to know that, and so set her up to fail. After being caught many times attempting to drink in her baby boy's appearance, she knew there would be repercussions.

It wasn't until a week later that anything materialized, a house elf had unexpectedly interrupted her while reading in the library and popped her away, to land in front of her husband. Quickly taking in her surroundings found she'd been brought to one of the sitting rooms where he conducted his business, and he wasn't alone.

"Ah, my lovely Narcissa, so kind of you to join us. Might I introduce one of my most trusted compatriots? This is Peter Pettigrew, an upstanding pureblood, who has seen the truth in the danger of the mudblood problem in our society." Lucius spouted in an oily tone.

Keeping a fake smile on her face and fearing just why she'd been brought in to meet him, Narcissa turned to see perhaps the most disgusting and disheveled man she'd ever encountered. He had beady black eyes, tangled and unkempt facial hair and smelled like he hadn't showered in weeks. The leer on his face and the way he blatantly undressed her with his eyes made her feel unclean and violated.

Still she held out her hand and had to refrain from cringing in disgust when he brought it to his lips.

"Peter here is going to perform a service for my lord in the future and has been promised great rewards for doing so, but in his generosity, my lord ordered a sample of that reward in advance. How better to reward an upstanding pureblood gentleman than the attentions of a fine pureblood woman?" His tone of voice left no doubt what he'd meant by 'attentions'.

Once again, she felt her will overridden by her husband's, stopping her from arguing, or even making a token resistance. This form of control could only force her to listen to him though, never to act.

"_Imperio!_" Lucius's wand pointed at her and she felt a curious sense of detachment, like she was witnessing her actions from a third person perspective.

She watched as her body slowly shed its clothing until she was completely unclad and her expression morphed into one of unrealistic delight. She watched as she slowly knelt to the floor in front of this disgusting man. She saw her dainty fingers unfasten his trousers; his revolting genitalia exposed to the world. She felt herself descend on his length and debase herself in the most humiliating of ways. It was over quickly and she heard herself thank this verminous creep for his service to the dark lord.

She remained on her knees, in the same position as she heard Lucius reiterate that this was but a sample of the rewards in store for him for faithful service to their Lord.

Once Peter finally left, her husband stopped maintaining the curse on her, and she felt the detachment fade. She immediately felt the pain on her scalp from her pulled hair and the disgusting aftertaste on her tongue. She still could not speak back to her husband, but stood and began to dress herself, clinging to whatever shards of her dignity remained.

"Remember this the next time I give you explicit instructions. My lord has plenty of servants that he could decide need to be… rewarded." His tone held a warning that he could and would follow through on this threat.

Still unable to speak, she simply nodded. With a dismissive wave of his hand Lucius summoned a house elf, which popped her away.

* * *

Soon after it became clear that Lucius really had no interest her presence, besides keeping up appearances. Of the two further times she had been summoned by her husband, one was to attend an owners meeting for the Montrose Magpies during which she spoke perhaps ten words the entire night.

The second was horrifying, a ball called for by the Dark Lord himself for his loyal Death Eaters and their families, wherein the 'entertainment' was a bevy of scantily clad witches clearly under some sort of influence, that provided 'services' to the proclaimed worthy. It was a disgusting display of misogyny and worst of all, it seemed that those who did not eagerly participate would lose some sort of favor. Pureblood gentlemen that she knew had been raised with genteel manners became rapacious monsters, caught between their fear of being seen as a non-participant and their lust. There was no concern for the wives and daughters that looked on with disgust and foreboding as fathers, husbands and brothers sated themselves in a frenzy.

Her only window to the outside world was the Daily Prophet which while inconsistent on reporting actual facts, captured the overall bleak attitude of the community as the Dark Lords following grew and grew. It read of random attacks, disappearing families and the dark mark appearing in the wake of tragedy.

Months passed as she whiled away her time reading and practicing magic, until an owl reached her, carrying the newspaper that changed the game.

**Dark Lord Defeated!**

**Neville Longbottom, Boy Savior!**

**Barty Crouch, Lestranges Bros in DMLE Custody!**

**Lucius Malfoy at Large!**


End file.
